Conversations
by Emi-Chan1
Summary: My second HP fic. Once again, I'm exploring the different relationships. This is a series of conversations between the main characters in GoF after everything happened.


A/N: Just me exploring the different 'shipper possibilities again. The order in which these conversations occur has absolutely *nothing* to do with my preferences, which I'm deciding to keep to myself at the moment. I am trying to be as unbiased as possible.  
  
Disclaimer: The characters aren't mine, but the ideas are. Don't bother sueing me unless you really want Pinky, my worn out teady bear who isn't even pink anymore.  
  
~*^*~  
  
"Harry?"  
  
Harry turned his head from the lake that he had been staring at and looked up to see who had spoken. It wasn't at all who he had expected. It was Cho Chang.  
  
"Can I join you?" she asked.  
  
Harry nodded dumbly, reverting back to staring at the water. There was an uncomfortable silence at first, but then Harry decided to venture something he hoped would be comforting.  
  
"I'm really sorry about Cedric ..."  
  
"Don't be. It wasn't your fault." She said, as if it was an automatic reaction.  
  
"I offered him a tie." He said bitterly, not quite sure why he was admitting all of this, but unable to stop. "We were going to split the prize because we had helped eachother ... basically the whole time. It seemed the only right thing to do, you know?" He stopped at that point. "I should have just done it. Just taken the cup on my own. Then he'd still be alive."  
  
"Harry, don't blame yourself." Cho said adamantly, "You did a decent thing, offering him a tie, and how were you supposed to know what would have happened?"  
  
"I don't know ..." Harry mumbled as he absenly twirled his finger in the water. "It was just so fast. So heartless. Just a simple 'Avada Kedarva' and he was gone. Just like that." He swallowed. He wasn't going to cry. Not if he could help it. Not in front of her.  
  
If he had looked up, he would have seen tears in her eyes, but he didn't. He just continued to stare at the water. He didn't even notice when she left.  
  
~*^*~  
  
The library was Hermione's escape. There was no one who would even think of coming here now that classes were over ... except for Hermione. She wasn't studying, though. How could she after all that had just happened? No, she was sitting at a table, her arms pillowing her head on the desk, brushing away the few stray tears that streaked down her cheeks against her will.  
  
Then, unexpectedly, she felt a hand on her back. She looked up to see exactly the person she didn't want to see at the moment. She knew that her hair was a mess and her eyes were puffy and red from crying and a lack of sleep ... a far cry from the Yule Ball, that was for sure. But the eyes she looked into were full of kindness and concern.  
  
"Viktor, I ..." she couldn't get any farther than that. She had no idea what to say. This was the person she hadn't talked to in weeks, but who still cared for her.  
  
"Hermy-own-ninny," Hermione had to smile at this, if even just a little. He really did try, didn't he? "I haff to talk vit you." His gruff voice was very serious.  
  
"I'm sorry I --"  
  
"Don't be sorry, Hermy-own-ninny ..."  
  
"I ..." Hermione was still at a loss for words. How was she supposed to talk to him?  
  
"I vas going to say that I ..." He hesitated a moment, as if searching for the right thing to say. "I just vanted you to know that I vas not doing the Crucitatis curse on purpose."  
  
That was what he was trying to tell her? That was it? "I know you didn't do it on purpose, Viktor."  
  
"You do?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Do you vant to be left alone now?" He asked.  
  
"If you don't mind ..."  
  
Then he left, leaving Hermione still tired and devistated, but feeling a little better.  
  
~*^*~  
  
Ginny was walking down by the pond, trying to absorb everything that had just happened. 'And to think,' she mused to herself, 'I was scared to death when Harry went down into this very pond.' That seemed like the most trivial thing in the world compared to ... this. She remembered seeing Voldemort before. He wasn't even a person then, just a ... thing, a spirit, that lived inside her diary. Tom. She thought about how terrified Harry must be to have not only seen Voldemort as a spirit, but as a *real* person.  
  
'No, he's not a real person,' she corrected herself, 'he's the essence of evil.'  
  
As if pulled directly from her thoughts, she saw him sitting beside the pond and looking down into it blankly. Her feet moved toward him on their own accord, even though her brain was screaming, 'Leave him alone!' She felt she had to say something.  
  
She was now right beside him now, and she searched her mind for something tactful to say.  
  
"Hey," she finally blurted out, giving herself a series of mental kicks for not thinking of something better.  
  
Harry jerked his head up as if coming out of a trance. His bright green eyes connected with hers for a second. With concern, she noted that the usually vivaceous eyes looked somehow dull and they were surrounded by huge dark rings. "Hey," he replied weakly.  
  
"Are you all right?" she asked, immediately kicking herself again, thinking of how many times he must have been asked that question by now, and how annoying it must be for him.  
  
"Fine. Just tired." His answer confirmed her fears. She knew she wasn't helping.  
  
"Why don't you get some sleep, then?" she asked, mentally saying 'Why don't I just leave him alone?'  
  
"I've tried." was his simple answer. His gaze was now brought once again back to the water.  
  
She would never know exactly why she did it, but at that time, he just looked so sad, so forlorn. She knew that her clumsy words could never really comfort him, so she sat down beside him and draped her arm around his back.  
  
He looked at her, his eyes conveying a sense of astonishment, of questioning, but she couldn't answer his questions. She couldn't say anything. She couldn't ruin this moment.  
  
And so they sat there, not saying a word, but communicating more than words ever could.  
  
~*^*~  
  
Ron walked through the halls aimlessly, going absolutely nowhere, but not being able to stop. It was probably good for him, he mused, since he hadn't really gotten much excersize since ...  
  
"Ron?" the voice that called to him was an unmistakeable one, its french drawl almost forced him to turn around.  
  
"I am so sorry aboot ze tragedy." she said, her pale blue eyes showing sincerity.  
  
Ron opened his mouth to say something, but found it impossible.  
  
"I wish zere was some way I could make it oop to you."  
  
At any other time, Ron would have been able to think of about a million ways she could have 'made it up', but not now.  
  
"You don't have anything to be sorry for ..." he said modestly. It was the first coherent thing he had said to her all year.  
  
She smiled. "Thank-you, Ron, zis means so much to me."  
  
He was about to ask what exactly meant so much to her when all of the sudden he felt her kiss him on each cheek.  
  
"I will miss 'Ogwarts, even zough it ees not so beautiful as Beuxbatons ... zere are good people 'ere."  
  
Fleur gave him one last smile and left him feeling quite dazed. He continued to walk down the hall, but this time, he was walking back to Gryffindor to get some much-needed rest.  
  
~*^*~  
  
Hermione finally decided that it was time for her to go into the real world. She couldn't hide out in the library forever. She grudgingly picked up her books and started to make her way back to Gryffindor.  
  
"Hermione!" the voice came from her right side. It was unmistakeably Harry's.  
  
"Hey, Harry." Hermione said.  
  
"I saw you in the hallway. I guess I just thought we could go back to Gryffindor together."  
  
"Sure." was Hermione's reply.  
  
They walked about half of the way in silence, but feeling better because they had someone to walk with. It was when they passed the hospital wing that Hermione decided she had to say something.  
  
"It's odd how everything changed so quickly." she said.  
  
"I know what you mean." Harry said, "Just a few days ago, if you had told me that ..." he trailed off.  
  
Hermione quickly picked up that he was going to talk about Voldemort, but he couldn't bring himself to say it. "It's all right, Harry," she said comfortingly, "you can say it."  
  
Harry sighed. "It's just that ... well I never really thought Voldemort would come back. I figured that as long as we had Dumbledore around ..."  
  
"We'd be safe?" Hermione finished his sentence for him.  
  
He nodded.  
  
"I guess things don't always go the way we want them to."  
  
"Yeah, I guess not." Harry agreed, "Well, here we are."  
  
They had, indeed come to the portrait hole. Without warning, Hermione gave Harry a huge hug.  
  
"Oh, Harry, you know I hate to see you like this." she said, a few stray tears stubbornly squeezing out of her eyes.  
  
"It's okay, Hermione, I'll be fine."  
  
Hermione pulled away and sniffed. "I hope so."  
  
"Porcupine Needles." Harry rattled off the password and climbed through the portrait hole, turning around to help Hermione through.  
  
~*^*~  
  
When Ron came down the stairs from the bedroom, he saw Hermione sitting in one of the overstuffed Gryffindor chairs with her legs drawn up under her chin, wrapped tightly by her arms. Her eyes stared across the room at nothing in particular.  
  
Ron took a seat in the chair beside her. He wasn't quite sure how long they sat there before Hermione spoke.  
  
"They say the fetal position is the most relaxing position to be in when you're under a lot of stress." she said matter-of-factly as usual, but unusually far off, "It's the same position you're in in the womb, hence then name ... fetal position."  
  
"Yeah ..." Ron said tentatively. He wasn't quite sure what to make of her words.  
  
"I can't even imagine the stress Harry's going though right now." she said, sounding more coherent now, "It scares me to see him like this."  
  
"I know what you mean." Ron agreed, "It's like you can't get through to him. He's built a wall around himself or something."  
  
"Yeah." Hermione said, sliding her feet to the floor and draping her arm over the armrest.  
  
"I guess we just have to wait don't we?" Ron asked rhetorically, "We just have to wait until he opens up again. I just wish he didn't have to go back to the Dursleys ... those ugly, good-for-nothing --" his speech was abruptly cut off by a glare from Hermione.  
  
"There's nothing we can do about that right now." she said. "You know that Dumbledore is only doing what's best for him."  
  
"Yeah, I know." Ron said sullenly. "I just wish it didn't have to be like that, you know? I mean, we've been more of a family to him than those -- those people could ever be, and I just can't help wondering ..."  
  
"... if there was some way for the 'ancient magic' to see that?"  
  
"Exactly."  
  
Hermione sighed and looked Ron directly in the eye. "It's hard, isn't it?" she said, "It's hard not to be able to do anything about this."  
  
"I know." Ron said, lowering his gaze.  
  
"We'll get through it, though. Just like we got through everything else."  
  
For the first time in a while, the beginnings of a smile began to spread across Ron's face. "Yeah, I guess you're right."  
  
~*^*~  
The End  
~*^*~  
  
So, did ya like it? 


End file.
